


Whumptober #23 Go The FUCK To Sleep

by BlueEyedArcher



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Caretaking, Fluff and Angst, Geoffrey being reluctant caretaker, Insomnia, Jonathan neglecting his own health, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sleep Deprivation, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27051628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEyedArcher/pseuds/BlueEyedArcher
Summary: The expectation that doctors would be the most adept at caring for themselves is a testament to someone who hasn’t truly met a doctor and spent an extended period of time with one after their shift ends. As much as Jonathan would like to strut about flaunting his good natured routine and his proactive tendencies to thwart the stressors that could undercut his efforts in the medical field, he hadn’t the time nor the thought to actually take an additional moment for his own health and well being. As a doctor, he was expected, both by society, his patients and himself, to weather every storm that battered the vessel of his goals in an ever constant changing storm despite the damages he suffered during.Only after the fact, could he mend the sails and examine the extent of the damage which he often soothed with a hasty patching before moving onward to the next task at hand. One more surgery, one more vaccination, more blood samples to test, more supplies to retrieve and another serum to synthesize.
Relationships: Geoffrey McCullum & Jonathan Reid, Geoffrey McCullum/Jonathan Reid
Comments: 8
Kudos: 76





	Whumptober #23 Go The FUCK To Sleep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Oreneta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oreneta/gifts).



> This was a lovely whumptober request from Orenata in the Pembroke Server. Prompt number 23, featuring sleep deprivation/insomnia. Reid is a reluctant hardworking doctor and Geoffrey is the begrudging caretaker for the stupid leech he's inadvertently taken under his wing out of pity.
> 
> It was a rare moment that Jonathan allowed himself a reprieve and rest.

The expectation that doctors would be the most adept at caring for themselves is a testament to someone who hasn’t truly met a doctor and spent an extended period of time with one after their shift ends. As much as Jonathan would like to strut about flaunting his good natured routine and his proactive tendencies to thwart the stressors that could undercut his efforts in the medical field, he hadn’t the time nor the thought to actually take an additional moment for his own health and well being. As a doctor, he was expected, both by society, his patients and himself, to weather every storm that battered the vessel of his goals in an ever constant changing storm despite the damages he suffered during.

Only after the fact, could he mend the sails and examine the extent of the damage which he often soothed with a hasty patching before moving onward to the next task at hand. One more surgery, one more vaccination, more blood samples to test, more supplies to retrieve and another serum to synthesize. 

It was a rare moment that Jonathan allowed himself a reprieve and rest. After becoming an ekon, this only worsened to the point of forcing his body against the flow of its biological clock to work throughout the day. He caught up on paperwork, took notes and examined his own pet projects until the sun set and he was free to venture forth and carry on with his usual rounds. He ate when the thought occurred to him, sipping at vials of rat blood he kept in his office.

He roamed the districts, checking in on patients and prescribing medication as necessary, politely dismissing the concerns from them when they questioned the darkening circles beneath his eyes and the stark pallor that worsened over the days. Before long, the frustrating pull of sleep that haunted him in the early days of his turning had faded. The nights dragged on, he got busier as he delved into the depths of this epidemic and the sickness that sprouted from the heart of it all. 

He warred with sewer beasts, claws fending off claws and fangs bared in wicked snarls that chilled the blood of any unfortunate enough to bare witness to it. Jonathan noticed he had slowed in recent days, a fact that was brought to light when the clumsy pawing of a beast caught his side, tearing a massive hole in his favorite coat and raking strips of flesh from his ribs. It hurt far more than any other wound he’s endured, causing him to stumble before he severed the beast’s head with a furious heave of his hacksaw. It dislodged and landed with a wet thump a few feet away. The long tongue hanging out as black blood puddled around the base of the skull. 

“Yer letting yourself slip, Reid.” The teasing words were thick with a familiar accent though Jonathan didn’t have the energy to spare to meet it with an equal response. His palm laid over his bleeding side, tacky and congealing quickly in the cooler night air.

“I’d assume there were too few vampires for you to hunt, were it not for the fact I just ended one myself.” Jonathan responded smoothly, hiding the grimace of pain on his face.

“Aye, and yet I’m still looking at one. A beast above all else.” Geoffrey took a leisurely step towards the doctor. Jonathan straightened up, a pathetic attempt to feign confidence when he could barely keep from hunching over. The wound was healing far too slowly for this situation, the doctor realized it too late as a byproduct of his missed appetite.

Jonathan adjusted his stance, widening it defensively as Geoffrey appraised him thoughtfully. “I could always put you down like the wounded wolf you are, leech.”

“A thoughtful offer I’m sure coming from the likes of you.” Jonathan pursed his lips together and lifted his head to meet the hunter’s stern gaze. “But I’d rather not face an untimely end just yet. I’ve work to do so if you’ll excuse me hunter?”

He just needed to reach his office, then all would be well. A bit of blood from his stock would fix him good as new, that was certain. Jonathan took a few stiff steps as he tucked his hand against his side, his free one tugged at the torn pockets in search of bandages to stem the flow. He was more than aware that the hunter remained where he was, watching the doctor seemingly limp away. Jonathan wondered if this satisfied that skewed viewpoint that Geoffrey harbored towards him. The dreadful monster had been thwarted once and for all by a miserable beast that crawled from the rot and sewer muck.

The vile thought only made worse as Jonathan was convinced he could _smell_ the putrid particles of feces and other fermenting fluids leeching across his wound and mingling with the blood. He grimaced and stumbled over an uneven cobblestone, causing himself to keel too far over. He raised a hand to brace himself for the fall when pain lanced through his chest as an arm slung around his bicep and pulled him back.

Jonathan hadn’t noticed the hunter’s swift approach or his quick movement until hands were already steadying him with a firm grip. The ekon shuddered as he came eye to eye with the hunter and sighed with a heavy note of defeat. “You missed a prime opportunity to drive a stake through my heart, hunter.”

“Hunting a wounded beast brings me no satisfaction, Reid. If I’m gonna kill ya, it's gonna be on my own terms.” Geoffrey sniped in return as he held firmly to Jonathan and eased the ekon’s arm around his shoulder. “But bite me and that mercy will be rescinded.”

“You’ll find no threat in me, hunter.” Jonathan groaned as he started moving once more.

“I’ll be the judge of that, leech.” Geoffrey grunted.

Whatever effort Jonathan had made in the hopes of returning to Pembroke had fallen flat as his consciousness started to fade and swoon. Geoffrey was a man of equal stature and strong willed, but not strong enough to carry the ekon for long distances like he had hoped. Jonathan doubted the hunter would expend so much energy for a lowly leech and assumed should he lose consciousness, the hunter would wipe his hands of the ekon by staking him in a gutter somewhere.

Instead, they made a brief detour for a safe house that hadn’t been used much in recent months. It appeared to be a small apartment that Priwen utilized as way points or for scouting an area for threats. Jonathan had never noticed its existence or seen anything like it in the past but he was more than thankful to take a break. He sank to the floor before Geoffrey even had the chance to turn the lights on and sprawled in the filth and grime with little care for how dirty it made him.

The bleeding stopped at least but the pain remained, as did the dancing stars that burst across his vision. Every roll and shift of his head caused the world to unsteady and spin in jarring whirls. 

“You look like shit, Reid.” Geoffrey huffed as he started a fire in the hearth to warm the room up. He didn’t bother to remove his coat yet, his weapons still within easy reach as he regarded the doctor with a critical eye. “Ya haven’t been feeding.”

It wasn’t a question which Jonathan realized after a momentary delay as his weary mind tried to discern what Geoffrey was saying. His gaze was a little far off, split into two by the new environment and the concerning numbness stretching across his body.

“I’ve been too preoccupied with my work.” The doctor answered a bit strained as he started to move against his best judgement. He peeled the fabric of his coat away from his wound, inevitably causing it to begin bleeding once more. He grimaced and rifled around in the pockets for those bandages once more.

“Christ Reid.” Geoffrey cursed and stepped towards him with determined strides. The thump of his boots on the rickety wood boards was far too loud in the doctor’s ears as he recoiled back with his teeth bared. Startled, the hunter stiffened and slowed his gait. Jonathan noticed the way Geoffrey’s hand shot back to the sword on his hip at the flinch but smoothed it over as he started to remove his own coat in search of something. Jonathan managed to finally find what he was looking for, only to discover they had been in the pocket that had been slashed. They didn’t exactly survive intact and what little had was beyond soaked in blood.

Jonathan’s hands fell into his lap in defeat as he sat there with fretful thoughts jumbled up in a fog trying to discern what course of action he should take now. Dawn was creeping closer, he could feel that phantom ache in his bones. A restless presence that weighed him down in recent months. His attempt to train his body out of it had been successful but now it lurked on the fringes of his mind, unable to defy its calling. He scrubbed his hand over his face and released a shaky sigh.

He tore it away when he felt a hand jostle his knee to garner his attention. Peering up, Jonathan realized the hunter had removed the pouches from his belt, revealing a plethora of medical supplies for a one man first aid kit. It was, to put it simply, impressive and logical for someone of Geoffrey’s calibre and duties to carry on him. One of which involved a long roll of bandages similar to the one he lost at the claws of the sewer beast.

“Hold still, Reid.” Geoffrey grunted, a bitterness on his face as his hands worked quickly and clumsily to apply them to the ekon’s injuries. A teasing comment jumped to his lips and slipped out before Jonathan could think better of it.

“I do truly appreciate the help hunter, but should you wish to learn to polish up your _technique_ , my office is always open.”

Geoffrey gave him a sideways glance and shook his head at that. “Welcoming the enemy into your lair. You’ve yet to learn, leech.”

“Or I am perfectly aware of the dangers that accompany it and I choose to risk it either way.” At this range, Geoffrey could see the dark shadows that made the ekon look far more sunken than usual.

“When was the last time you slept?” Geoffrey asked, a genuine inquiry that danced on Jonathan’s brain like a tap dancing weasel spastically darting about as he attempted to count the days or well, nights. Both perhaps? 

“I don’t know.” Jonathan admitted. “Time blends together when work becomes priority.”

“You do realize that immortality doesn’t make ya immune to everything, right?” Geoffrey pointed out. “You’re not healing cause you haven’t been sleeping or eating.” 

“You seem well versed in the biology of men and monsters for a simple hunter.” Jonathan hummed, wincing a moment as Geoffrey tightened the bandages around his torso and finished tucking them in place to secure them.

“Ya gotta know yer prey well when hunting. How it eats, how it sleeps, how to weaken or kill it. Only a fool chases that which it don’t understand.” Geoffrey gave the ekon a gentle shove to the shoulder as if his words were more pointed at the doctor than anything else.

“Sometimes diving into the unknown is the best way to learn quickly.”

“Or die.” Geoffrey shoved himself up to his feet and loomed over Jonathan who remained seated on the floor like a fitful lost toddler trying to figure out what exactly he wanted to do with himself. He found it in wringing his coat up into his grasp and fidgeting absently with the ruined fabric. Time passed quietly by as Jonathan’s gaze fixed on one particular floor board that harbored the husk like remains of a dead moth. The ekon had an odd thought as he cocked his head to the side and squinted, a futile attempt to make out whether it had all of its legs intact or if what he was seeing were simply shadows. 

He broke free from the spell when the hunter returned, his hand outstretched to pull the doctor to his feet. “Come on Reid.”

“Where are we going?” Jonathan asked absently.

“I’m going back to Priwen. You’re going to bed.” Geoffrey gave him a shove towards the bed to punctuate the command.

“Should I wake expecting to find a stake in my heart?” Jonathan inquired as he dropped down onto the dusty bedspread and cradled his side with a hiss as pain welled up inside his ribs.

“If you’ve a stake in your heart, you won’t be waking up at all.” Geoffrey reminded. “But no. I’m not keen on cheap trickery like those St. Paul Stole brothers. I’ll be back before sundown to ensure you don’t cause trouble.” The hunter assured.

“Well then.” Jonathan’s voice trailed as he examined the pillow for concerning spots as if he could contract some illness or disease from it.

“Sleep.” Geoffrey commanded to which Jonathan waved a dismissive hand at that and nodded. Be it the spell of his cursed state or his wounds, Jonathan had never felt the sudden weight of weariness as he did in that moment. The second his head touched the pillow, he found himself lost in the throes of overdue sleep, drowning in the bliss of immortal relief.


End file.
